


i'm begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans (that's my man)

by anothermikaelson



Series: of wristrockets and skateboards [12]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Couch Cuddles, F/M, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Protective Lucas Sinclair, Sickfic, a lot of cuddling actually, cuddles too, that's literally it pretty much lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:19:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28042293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anothermikaelson/pseuds/anothermikaelson
Summary: max is sick. lucas takes care of her. post season 3.--aka lumax cuddles and that's literally the whole fic lmao
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Mayfield & Lucas Sinclair, Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair
Series: of wristrockets and skateboards [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011171
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18





	i'm begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans (that's my man)

**Author's Note:**

> title from taylor swift's "willow" 
> 
> this line was literally SCREAMING for a oneshot, and since my other fic is actually taking me a long time to write (there are a lot of povs to work on), here's one for y'all.

There was no _way_ she was sick today, of all days. Why couldn't Max be sick the next day? Seriously, she was starting to hate her immune system. 

She woke up with a pounding headache on the Sinclairs' couch, to the sound of Erica yelling at Lucas for being in the way in the hallway (again), and she felt cold. 

Like, freezing cold. And it's summer. Well, the end of summer, at least. They're in September now, the weekend of Labor Day. It's supposed to be at least 70 degrees out, which honestly isn't too hot for a California native, but at least she can go out in short sleeves or a tank top. And she's already in Lucas's sweatshirt, since it was a cold night.

That's how she deduces that she's officially sick. _Pe_ _rfect._

It also doesn't exactly help that some windows are open. She's able to barely sit up before her headache takes over, and she falls back down, her head threatening to pound its way out. She presses a few fingers to her head, hoping to relieve it. 

Of course, it doesn't work. If anything, it gets worse. 

Luckily, Lucas comes down the stairs almost immediately, and notices Max's extremely tired look. "Hey, MadMax, you okay?" He comes closer, and Max slightly backs away. "What's wrong?" 

"I think I'm sick," Max says silently, still rubbing her forehead to no avail. 

Lucas scrunches his eyebrows together, and puts his cool hand to Max's forehead. "Yeah, you are. You're burning up. Here, I'll go get Mom. And some medicine. Be right back, don't pass out." He presses a quick kiss to her forehead before heading to the kitchen. 

Max almost sighs, lying back down. There are days when the two of them were a little more touchy than usual, and today's definitely one of those days. Most of the time it's when they're alone, and sometimes it's when one of them are having a bad day, and they're hanging out with the party. On those days, they're pretty much left alone too. 

Lucas returns with a cup of water and a pill, handing them to Max. He also hands her a banana. "Eat this first. Then the pill and water." Max smiles, or at least tries to smile, and eats no more than a few bites of the banana, before downing the pill with water. 

She's just finished when Lucas comes back down with a huge blanket, placing it over her. "Thanks, Stalker." Max wraps the blanket around herself, and holds part of it up, mimicking the exact thing her boyfriend does when she sneaks in his window at night, letting him slip in next to her. She yawns, leaning back on him as he puts her on his lap, his legs wrapping around hers, stretched across the couch. "I'm tired." 

"No shit. You're sick. I think you have a fever." Lucas puts his arms around Max's shoulders, pulling her closer, and for a second Max forgets she's sick. "You'll be better soon." 

Max smiles, and closes her eyes, hoping that sleep will take over. 

It doesn't. 

Literally once she closes her eyes, Erica runs down the stairs, asking if breakfast is ready yet, and she's SO LOUD. 

Thankfully, Lucas saves her. "Shut up, Erica!" 

Erica shoots back. "Why?" Then she sees Max, and shrinks back a little. "Oh. Sorry. I'm heading out, anyway." She quickly scarfs a bowl of cereal, and heads back up to her room. 

Max sighs, and sits up. "Alright, there's no way I'm falling asleep now. Can we just watch TV or something?" 

"No." 

She turns around, strawberry blonde hair whipping Lucas right in the face. "What? Why not?"

"Because you need rest, and I don't want the TV to be scrambling your headache even more," Lucas states matter-of-factly. "Besides, I'm taking care of you, and I'm making the rules. So rule number one: no TV." 

"What's rule number two?" Max asks, hoping to throw him off. 

Lucas looks her in the eye. "Rule number two: SLEEP. And medicine every four hours. And a shitload of water." 

Max narrows her eyes. "Fine. But my rules apply too." 

"And those are...?"

"Don't wake me up, don't bother me, and don't, under any circumstances, touch my hair." 

Lucas sighs. "Fine. Now try to sleep." 

"Can't," Max says stubbornly. 

"Jeez, I'll go get some water for you." He leaves quickly, and Max pulls the blanket closer to her, since her human heater's gone. 

Lucas comes back, and makes sure she drinks her water. "Alright, sleep." 

"You don't just say 'sleep' and expect me to be out like a light, Stalker." 

"Then what do you want me to do?" Lucas asks, sitting down next to her, exasperated. 

Max grins mischievously, and pretty much tackles him onto the couch, wrapping her arms around his torso, and putting her head on his shoulder. "I want you to stay with me." 

Rolling his eyes playfully, Lucas pulls her closer, putting one leg over hers, and one arm around her shoulders. "Fine. As long as you promise to sleep for at least two hours." 

"I'll try." Max reaches with one hand for his free hand, letting their fingers lace together.

It's how she sleeps the best: with reassurance that her boyfriend is with her at all times. And he is. "I love you, you know," Max says quietly.

"I love you too, MadMax." Smiling, Max closes her eyes, settling into sleep, and lets her dreams take over. 

_What a way to start Labor Day weekend._

**Author's Note:**

> i know this is a bit shorter, but i wanted to get SOMETHING out there, and this prompt was just stuck in my head for weeks. 
> 
> what are some other prompts you guys would like me to write (no smut)? let me know!
> 
> xoxo


End file.
